


Here Comes the Sun

by enigmaticblue



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-10
Updated: 2010-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfram & Hart knows exactly how to torture a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt “vampires: sun burn or poisoning”. Takes place in late season 2.

Lilah smirks at Angel. “You’ll be happy to know that the windows in this office have not been necromanced, although since this office has a north-western exposure, you won’t get any direct exposure.”

 

“I thought Wolfram & Hart wanted me alive,” Angel bites out.

 

Lilah laughs. “The Senior Partners do, it’s true, but this room won’t kill you. It’s just going to make you really, really uncomfortable.”

 

She closes the door behind her and Angel hears the _snick_ of the deadbolt.  Angel has no idea what the Wolfram  & Hart goons used to bind his hands behind his back, but it’s impervious even to his strength.  He can’t resist trying to break free again, straining against his bonds ineffectually, and cursing when it does no good.

 

Even though Angel Investigations has crossed paths with Wolfram & Hart in the past, he hadn’t expected it today. At least Wes, Cordy, and Gunn managed to get out of the warehouse, along with their client’s daughter—who had a truly impressive magical talent.

 

Angel had fought to give them that time, so his sacrifice hasn’t been made in vain.

 

He moves as far away from the window as he can, wedging himself into one corner to get as much shade as possible. There’s no way Angel can attempt to break out until the sun goes down, but depending on how much light the room ends up getting, he might be in no shape to try by sunset.

 

Angel knows he’s well and truly stuck; his hands are bound too tightly to get any kind of leverage, his ankles have the same binding, and he’s locked in a sunlit room. Even if he doesn’t fry, Angel has never been very good at withstanding sunlight.

 

Spike had braved the sun with impunity, Angel remembers, but he’s never been able to manage too much exposure, even of indirect light.

 

He’s only half-conscious when the office door opens a few inches, so Angel doesn’t immediately recognize the man in the suit kneeling next to him to cut the bonds on his wrists and ankles.

 

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he promises. “Just give us a minute.”

 

Recognition comes slowly. “Wes?”

 

“That’s right,” Wesley replies. “I don’t know what they used on this, but—” Wesley strains to cut the ties around Angel’s wrists and ankles, and Angel glimpses the beads of sweat on Wesley’s forehead.

 

Wesley grunts as the plastic gave way, and he tucks the knife into a sheath at the small of his back. He grabs one of Angel’s arms, slinging it over his shoulders, and pulls Angel to his feet.

 

Angel is impressed by the show of strength, especially considering how seriously Wesley had been injured recently. Angel does what he can to help Wesley out, taking as much of his own weight as he can, but he’s been seriously weakened by the sunlight.

 

Cordelia, also in a business suit, is keeping watch in the hallway, and she waves them past. “Go!” she hisses. “We don’t have much time.”

 

Gunn emerges from an adjacent hallway as they approach the elevator. “How are we doing?” he asks.

 

“He’s not in good shape,” Wesley manages. “Take him for a moment.”

 

Gunn grabs Angel’s other arm, taking his weight from Wesley and gripping Angel tightly. “You okay?”

 

Wesley presses a hand to his side. “I’m healed enough not to do any lasting damage,” he replies, stabbing the “down” button several times.

 

“Someone’s coming,” Cordelia calls.

 

“Come on, _come on_ ,” Gunn mutters.

 

The elevator doors slide open, and they all pile in. Cordelia punches the “Close Door” button with her thumb rapidly, and Gunn manhandles Angel to a corner of the elevator where they’re less likely to be seen.

 

“Cordy?” Wes inquires.

 

She’s looking at the digital display above their heads as they descend. “We’re good,” she assures them. “Just a little more now.”

 

Angel has no idea whether to attribute it to luck or planning, but they don’t stop until they’ve hit the basement level, and Gunn and Wesley each take an arm as they half-carry him out of the elevator.

 

He only vaguely recalls the entrance to the sewers located in the basement of Wolfram & Hart’s law offices, and Angel allows Gunn and Wesley to hustle him in that direction. There is no other choice right now, and Angel is in no shape to argue, even if he’s so inclined. Angel tries to help as much as he can, but he’s only partially aware of everything going on around him.

 

“We’re going to have to lay low for a while,” Wesley murmurs once they’re in the sewers and a hundred yards away from the subterranean entrance to Wolfram & Hart’s basement.

 

“Oh, no way am I staying in the sewers any longer than I have to,” Cordelia hisses in response. “ _No way_.”

 

“I’ll stay with him,” Gunn promises. “No big deal. You guys can go on ahead and make sure we’re covered until nightfall.”

 

Angel can see Wesley considering the idea, as well as other options. Finally, Wesley nods. “Of course. Call if you need us, Charles.”

 

“You know it,” Gunn replies, easing Angel down so that they’re both sitting with their backs to the wall. “You okay?”

 

Angel doesn’t know how to respond. He and Gunn don’t really talk about his undead status, and he’s not sure how to explain the effect of sunlight on him. “I will be,” he finally says, choosing that as a solid middle ground.

 

“Takes a lot out of you, huh?” Gunn asks.

 

The question is more astute than Angel expects from Gunn—Wesley, maybe, but not Gunn—and he grunts an acknowledgement. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he finally manages, changing the subject.

 

Gunn rolls his eyes expressively. “I thought we were past this shit. We’re a team, Angel. As soon as we figured out Wolfram and Hart grabbed you, we made sure the girl was safe and started working on finding you.”

 

Angel knows that he’s still not quite used to being part of a team. He _thinks_ he is, and most days he doesn’t see any direct contradiction to that belief, but then there are days like today. Days when he’s surprised that Wes and Cordy and Gunn show up to rescue him, when he doesn’t have to rescue himself.

 

There are days like today when he feels his strength slowly trickle back to him while Gunn keeps him company in the dark, dank sewers.

 

“It’s just—” Angel begins, and then he stops. He doesn’t know how to explain that over two centuries of habits die hard, or that he wouldn’t blame them for leaving him to rot after what he’d done.

 

Angel had made up his lapse in judgment to Cordelia, who only wanted him to acknowledge that he’d screwed up and make it right. He’s allowed Wesley to take the lead and continue to take the lead. Angel has no idea how he’s managed to win back Gunn’s trust, however.

 

“Look,” Gunn says. “You fucked up. You’ve said as much. Wesley’s in charge because you fucked up. As far as I’m concerned, we’re good.”

 

“Good,” Angel murmurs. “I guess—I just wasn’t sure.”

 

Gunn shakes his head. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

 

Angel smiles and leans his head against the wall. “Yeah, I know.”

 

“As long as you do.” Gunn glances over at Angel with a grin, and Angel can’t help but grin in response.

 

“So, if I sleep—”

 

“I’ll keep watch,” Gunn assures him. “Sleep, man. I’ve got your back.”

 

And because Angel knows Gunn does have his back, he closes his eyes and sleeps.


End file.
